


The Adventures of a Conman and his assistant, the Dollmaker

by FanFicReader01



Series: Peculiar encounters of a taxi driver [26]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Creepy Dolls, Dolls, Fluff, Ghosts, M/M, Macabre, Slice of Life, Supernatural Elements, Taxi AU, Tricks, conman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: A collection of stories about a conman and his assistant, the Dollmaker.One a big talker and sometimes too confident for his own sake.The other a more reserved guy but who has the intellect of a genius and the power of the supernatural on his side.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> There's no finite amount of chapters as this fic will hold multiple drabbles, oneshots and stories all in one!  
> So this work won't ever be truly finished

_Solomon_ is many things. He has many talents, travelled almost across the whole world and holds knowledge of a lot. At least, that’s what he has made himself known for. 

In reality Solomon is a simple business man. Started as a young farmer boy on his family’s corn ranch.

He has lied his way through life and has become a successful conman. His real name is Fred but that sounds less interesting than Solomon.

However, looking for new adventure, he looks for a companion. He finds one in Pjotr.

 

 _Pjotr_ isn’t as his name suggests, from Russia or Poland at all. In fact he’s a humble kid from the Nether Regions but he says his parents thought ‘Pjotr’ was a cool name thus he is now called Pjotr.

He has made a name for himself as an outstanding dollmaker. What makes him special is that he has the Gift to turn his creations into living things with beating hearts. The only downside is: recently Pjotr creates monsters, not lovely baby dolls like he used to. All for the sake of ‘randomness’ and ‘shock value’. After creating some chaos in his village he’s forced to flee and that’s when he meets Solomon who offers him a life changing, money inducing job.


	2. The Story of the little Ghost Girl who was in need for a doll (Part 1)

The two odd men have finally come to rest in a small bar. Immediately they get a few suspicious looks from some customers. It’s not strange these people do so. After all, the duo _does_ look odd indeed. They’re totally out of their element in this ordinary bar.

For starters, the height difference of the duo is noticeable right away. One small, maybe even scrawny looking with a sharp gaze and frown. The suit he wears looks outworn and too big for him. The man  has dark bags under his eyes. He looks tired for sure. He _is_ tired.

His companion is everything the first man isn’t: tall, compact and broad shouldered. He wears a fedora and a large leather coat. Who knows what’s hidden underneath all those layers.

The two men settle at the bar counter.  “Two coffees. Black, please,” the smaller man orders. The bartender gives them a nod without questioning. As long as these men don’t start trouble, he can’t really throw them out based on their looks only.

 

The bartender gives them their cups and the tall man with the glasses takes them off and brings the cup to his nose. He strongly inhales. “Ah, that smells about just right. Smell like homecoming.”

 The other man takes a careful sip and agrees. “It’s nice coffee indeed.”

“So what are we going to do next?”

 “Find a sleeping place. Get you to w-w-work.”

“Aw man, when do _I_ get a break?”

 “If you earn enough.”

“You’re cruel, Solomon,” the taller man whines.

 “I’m not. I give you a good reason to work. So it won’t just stay your hobby. And besides, somebody has to d-do the talking.”

The taller guy lowers his head in defeat. He can’t argue on that. He doesn’t like the whole talking thing. Unless it’s about his work and the client has to specify their needs. Then he doesn’t know when to stop chattering.

 “Wait, maybe I can do something right now.”

“Wha-”

 “People of this city, town! Please, can I have y-your atte-attention!” the smaller man stands up and raises his arms to draw the focus on him. Once he gets the crowd’s wanted attention, he does a quick bow to them. “Excuse us for this interruption. But I, the great Solomon Miller, have something, or rather _someone_ special to-to announce. My friend here: Pjotr! He’s a special dollmaker. As in: he can bring his work to life!!”

 The crowd is silent for a moment. They don’t know what to say. So Solomon fills the silence.

“Show them.”

Rather reluctant, Pjotr steps off his stool and opens his coat to reveal a new doll he’s been working on. It’s a rather cutesy thing, for what he usually makes. He shoves his stool to the centre of the bar and lets the thing dance on it. There are clearly no strings on the puppet visible but people suspect it’s a scam. Some get scared and leave. Others just lose interest.

 “These people here aren’t fond of weird hocus pocus. They come here to unwind, not watch some freakshow,” the bartender sighs. “I think you better leave. You paid and drank your coffee, go now.”

Solomon looks disappointed and turns to his companion. Pjotr shrugs his shoulders. He’s more than happy to leave this boring place. He puts the chair back and stores the puppet back in his coat. Before they can exit the bar, they get stopped by one of the other clients. It’s a woman. She must’ve been in her late thirties or early forties.

 “I’m interested.”

Solomon smugly grins and says: “I’m expensive.” That earns him a loud laugh from the woman before she looks all serious again. “No, no, I was talking about your buddy.”

Pjotr stands behind the smaller guy as if he’s trying to hide, though that’s not very effective.

 “Me?”

“Yes, _you_. You make dolls then. _Special_ dolls. I’ve seen it with both eyes.”

 “So you believe u-us?” Solomon exclaims in slight surprise.

The woman nods. “Of course I believe in the supernatural! I’m not new to it.” Having said that, she also catches Pjotr’s mutual interest and attention.

 “So you want me to make you a personal doll?” now the taller man pushes himself in front of Solomon with delight visible behind those thick glasses.

 “No. But I think I know a guy who could use one right now. Maybe we should take the conversation outside, hm?”

The male duo agrees and they get greeted by the evening wind. The woman lights a cigarette and offers the men who kindly refuse.

 “The name’s Grace, by the way. Nice to meet you Pjotr and Solomon.”

“A pleasure to meet an elegant woman l-like you.”

 “Yes, elegant indeed. Eh, pleased to meet you!”

Grace chuckles before taking a long drag from her cigarette. While exhaling, she speaks again: “I bet you’re in need of a place to sleep, right?”

 “Pretty much,” Solomon answers.

“Good. I’ll talk to my husband. Maybe he’ll let you two sleep in our guest room tonight. Tomorrow I can bring you to the man who might be interested in your wares, Pjotr.”

She finishes the cigarette and guides the duo to her car. Both sit in the backseats.

 

“What if your husband isn’t happy w-w-with our presence?” Solomon then asks.

 “Then I know a cheap motel in the nearby area. Don’t worry,” Grace reassures them before a long silence follows. Eventually she randomly adds: “Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve brought home strangers. Be it for serious business or more intimate meetings.”

That makes Solomon and Pjotr exchange some quick, confused looks. Grace smiles.

 “My partner and I are pretty flexible when it comes to relationships. Don’t worry, we don’t cheat on each other. We talk a lot about it so we’re all on the same page.”

 “Interesting,” Pjotr mutters.

 

\--

 

Grace’s partner is okay with the duo staying for tonight. “As long as your creations won’t hurt anybody or destroy anything, I’m fine with almost everybody crossing our floors.”

 “Thank you, it’s very much a-a-appreciated,” Solomon thanks the man and Pjotr quickly nods in agreement.

The guest room only has one bed, though. But that doesn’t bother the two men. They’ve shared a bed many times before. They’re used to it.

 “I’ll wake you tomorrow and then I’ll also inform my friend we’re coming over,” Grace tells the duo before leaving them to their privacy.

As soon she’s gone Pjotr turns to his companion. “Can I be the little spoon tonight?”

 “Why?”

“I missed that position. You’re always the little spoon.”

 “Well, I’m the smaller g-guy.”

“That didn’t bother you before,” Pjotr argues. “There’s an underlying reason, isn’t there?”

 “Sometimes you fart,” Solomon lets out finally. “And then you move a-a a lot. Got your ass pressed in my face too many t-times.”

The taller man laughs out loud, even patting himself on the knee. “Alright, fine. I’ll hug you instead. But I can’t guarantee to be less farty.”

 “At least I won’t get the full frontal wind then,” Solomon sighs before slipping into some comfy sleepwear. For Pjotr it takes more time to get undressed. The heavy coat hangs over a chair together with the baggy pants. By the time he’s in his PJS, Solomon is already in the bed. Once he joined his companion, Solomon wraps one arm around the taller man’s shoulder.

 “Sleep well.”

“Good night, Solomon.”


	3. The Story of the little Ghost Girl who was in need of a doll (Part 2)

The following day, the duo leaves early with Grace. They quickly arrive in another neighbourhood. One house immediately stands out due to its blueness. It’s really, really blue.

 “Is this where we’re g-going?”

“Yes. That’s the house of an old friend of mine. Mister Blue.”

 “No wonder he’s called that,” Pjotr says amused.

The car gets parked on the street and Grace leads the way to the doorstep. She gives the two men a hesitating look first.

 “Since you’ve delved into the supernatural of this world, I guess you won’t be shocked by possible ghost sightings?” she assumes.

For a moment the duo remains stoic before shaking their heads.

 “I think we can honestly say we’ve d-d-dealt with w-worse,” Solomon finally confirms with words.

“Good. I’ll do the talking first,” Grace nods as she rings the doorbell. Ten minutes later still no answering.

 “He should be here. His car is there after all,” Grace mutters. Just as she’s about to walk around the house, the door gets opened. A lanky man with messy blond hair in a simple blue shirt and black boxers answers the call.

 “Who- on this unorthodox hour of the d-”

“It’s eight o’ clock. You should be up already,” Grace immediately replies back.

 “G-Grace!” Mister Blue stammers in surprise. Then he peaks behind the woman to look at the odd duo behind her.

 “They’re here for the doll. If that’s still relevant.”

“Uhm… Wait, come on in. I haven’t had my morning coffee yet,” Mister Blue then invites everybody inside the house. They follow him all the way to the kitchen.

 “You’re so oblivious,” Grace sighs.

These two definitely had history, Solomon observes from their interaction.

 

“You needed a d-doll?” he says after the taller man has gotten down two cups of coffee.

 “Yeah. My daughter wants one. But I don’t want it to be an ordinary doll,” Mister Blue replies. He folds his hands together and stares at the duo. “So you guys can help me, right?”

 “Yes. Mainly this guy,” Solomon points at Pjotr who hasn’t spoken a single word yet. He gives his friend an encouraging nod to speak up.

 “Y-yeah. I make specialized dolls that serve your needs. Baby dolls, youth or even adult like dolls. I can make animals or monsters too. And the best part,” now Pjotr opens his cloak to reveal the tiny doll he showed Grace and the unwilling audience the night before.

Mister Blue seems enthusiastic. With great focus he follows the doll’s every move. Solomon who mainly observes their possible client, notices how one eye doesn’t quite follow the other. Is he crossed-eyed? Or maybe it’s a fake eye. Oh well, who is he to judge? Not that it even matters to them. All they need is the money and a satisfied customer.

 “That’s only a small part of my friend’s p-potential,” Solomon pats his partner on the shoulder.

“Alright, these things ‘live’. How?”

 “I create special hearts for them. Lots of special tricks go into this work. Smaller dolls, smaller hearts, less resources and less time obviously. So depending on what you want the doll to look like and be capable of, will allow me to give you a proper price tag.”

 “Do you have a list of specialties? Parameters or reference material?” Mister Blue asks.

“Sure.” Again Pjotr searches the many  pockets of his coat. Finally he finds the booklet and the blond man looks through it.

 

~

 

Regular doll

 

_Size:_

 

  1. XS: 10 cm
  2. S: 20 cm
  3. M: 30 cm
  4. L: 50 cm
  5. XL: 1m
  6. XXL: 2-3m
  7. **On own risk:** 5m



_Type:_

  1. Inanimate object (table, chair, glass, etc…)
  2. Humanoid
  3. Robot
  4. Anthropomorphic
  5. Animal
  6. Creature (monster, angel of death, demon, etc…)



_Materials: (often it’s a mix of two or more)_

  1. Plush
  2. Wood
  3. Stone
  4. Skin ( **don’t question its origin** )
  5. Porcelain
  6. Clay
  7. Plastic
  8. Iron
  9. Silicone



_Movability:_

  1. Motionless
  2. Eyes
  3. Only arms
  4. Only legs
  5. Only head
  6. Head, arms and legs
  7. “ “ + wrists and ankles
  8. Full movable fingers and/or toes
  9. (If applicable: tails, extra limbs)



Living doll

 

_Size:_

 

  1. XS: 10 cm
  2. S: 20 cm
  3. M: 30 cm
  4. L: 50 cm
  5. XL: 1m
  6. XXL: 2-3m
  7. **On own risk:** 5m



_Type:_

  1. Inanimate object (table, chair, glass, etc…)
  2. Humanoid
  3. Robot
  4. Anthropomorphic
  5. Animal
  6. Creature (monster, angel of death, demon, etc…)



_Materials: (often it’s a mix of two or more)_

  1. Plush
  2. Wood
  3. Stone
  4. Skin ( **don’t question its origin** )
  5. Porcelain
  6. Clay
  7. Plastic
  8. Iron
  9. Silicone



_Movability:_

  1. Motionless
  2. Eyes
  3. Only arms
  4. Only legs
  5. Only head
  6. Head, arms and legs
  7. “ “ + wrists and ankles
  8. Full movable fingers and/or toes
  9. (If applicable: tails, extra limbs)



_Morals:_

  1. Neutral
  2. Good
  3. Evil ( ** _not recommended!!_** )
  4. Chaotic ( **not recommended, though highly amusing** )
  5. Random



_Maintenance:_

  1. Low: not much cleaning/ not much repair/ can be forgotten or abandoned (or even neglected) without consequences
  2. Medium: treat it like a kid treats his favourite toy. For me that means: sometimes cleaning/ stitching it up if hurt/ feed it snacks
  3. High: high-end/state of the art dolls require the supervision as if it’s another (human) living being; food & drinks required/ cleaning/ stitching up/ give it attention and love



 

~

 

“That’s a whole washing list, sir,” Mister Blue murmurs.

 “You can call me Pjotr. Relax. I’ve got all day to work something out with you.”

“You do?”

 “We do. This takes some customers a w-whole day. Some taken a w-whole w-week,” Solomon replies first.

 “Exactly. You wouldn’t be the first. But that’s alright. I like to work these things thoroughly. It’s not an easy task for me, nor the customer. So we better sit down for this and go through all necessary details and what not.”

 “In that case, I’ll let myself out. If you guys need me to pick you up, give me a call on this.” Grace steps up and quickly scribbles down her number on a piece of paper and puts it in front of Solomon.

 “If you don’t have anything at her place anymore, you can also stay here if that’s easier,” Mister Blue then suggests.

 “I’ll bring the remaining baggage to here if that’s alright,” Grace offers.

Solomon and Pjotr give each other a look before nodding. “Good.”

 

“I’ll ask you the most basic question first: who is this doll for?”

 “For Elizabeth, one of my younger kids. She’d love to have a doll but never got one when she was still alive. And to be honest, I’ve never found the right one. You see, she’s a ghost. That makes some things a bit difficult.”

 “Ooh, ghosts!” Pjotr claps his hands like an excited child.

Solomon rolls his eyes. “Keep it together.”

 “We hardly worked with ghost customers before, but this will be a nice challenge!” Pjotr recollects himself and coughs. “How physical are they? Like, can they interact with the world of the living?”

 Mister Blue shoves his chair back a little. He lets one foot rest on his other knee and then he frowns.

“Obviously my Ghost Children can see our world. They can talk to those who can see them. Some humans are completely blind to them though, while other regular humans can only hear ghosts.

Appearance-wise, ghosts can remain invisible, or they become some half transparent form. More powerful and confident ghosts, like Joshua, can actually look like they’re actually made of flesh and blood. Though they’re not, really. It’s mostly an illusion. When they’re in this more visible state, some _can_ interact with objects of our world.”

 “So they’d be able to hold a doll,” Pjotr guesses.

The blond man nods.

 “Yes. That’s why you often hear some ghosts like to fool around, smashing things to the ground, kicking lamps and the likes. The problem with my girl, she doesn’t control her physical part well. It makes things just slip out her hands. So I hope you could make a special doll that allows her to keep it close to her all times without the fear of losing it due to her ghostly body.”

 “I see, I see. That must be tiresome for her. How old is she?”

“About ten. She stayed that age mentally forever. Same goes for her appearance,” Mister Blue adds. There’s genuine concern in his gaze. Solomon guesses this guy truly wants to pay the honest price to make something as complicated as a ghost doll. He looks at his companion. He trusts Pjotr in his skills, though.

 Now it’s Pjotr again who’s frowning. He mutters something and stares at the booklet in front of them.

“Hm, this _is_ challenging. But I like that. You have to give me a few days to come up with a proper plan to execute this. In the meantime, maybe you could try to give form to the doll’s final look.”

 “I’ll discuss it with Elizabeth when she wakes up,” Mister Blue says. He smiles. “Thank you so much.”

“Do you by chance have some workshop? Or a spare room where I can eventually create?”

 “I have my garage. It’s where I fix cars and sell some on my own. I can give you some space there. Have enough tools there also.”

 “That’s great. I won’t have to use it right away. I’ll stay in the guest room. That will do.”

 

The doorbell rings and it’s Grace. She’s brought the remaining luggage of the duo back. Solomon and Pjotr thank her and then she leaves them alone. Next Mister Blue shows them the guest room.

 “Darn, I should’ve cleaned it. I’m sorry for this mess. An old friend of mine used to stay here. That bastard.”

 “It’s alright. We’re used to a messy r-room,” Solomon chuckles and throws his friend a look.

“Yes, I don’t know how to clean,” Pjotr sighs. “But I’ll try my best here.”

 “I can help,” a new voice is heard behind them.

A young lad stands in the doorway.

 “That’s Joshua, I told you about them earlier.”

“So you’re the child who can almost look like a regular human,” Pjotr is enthusiastic. There were not many encounters with ghosts before. Even Solomon can see this Joshua, despite being more of a regular guy than he likes to admit himself.

 “If you really want to, that’s really appreciated, Joshua. These fine men will help create a _special_ doll for your sister!”

 “Oh, that’s why they’re here,” Joshua replies. “You’re going to work?”

“Good guess. I’m sorry, wish I could stay longer but work calls and these guys can be trusted. Can’t they?” Mister Blue stares at the younger ghost. The kid’s eyes seem to glow for a second and then they nod.

 “Yeah. Leave it to me, papa.”

With that, Mister Blue says his goodbyes and leaves for his job at the garage. Joshua begins cleaning up some random clothes and paper towels while Solomon and Pjotr put their own stuff on the bed.

 “You can use this closet and these drawers. Just don’t forget anything when you leave again.”

“We might stick around for a few d-days. Maybe a w-whole week,” Solomon replies.

 “Well, we’re getting more used to visitors again,” Joshua sighs. “It’s alright. So you two know how to help my sister out, right?”

 “Mostly him.”

“Solomon doesn’t know shit,” Pjotr then jokes, earning him a poke from the smaller guy.

 “I’m surprised you can see me,” Joshua then states at Solomon.

“Why?”

 “You’re the most regular human I’ve seen on these floors. Even more so than Mister Blue! I thought you wouldn’t be able to see any of us.”

Solomon peers at the kid, squinting his eyes. He’s about to open his mouth but decides to not speak up. He won’t argue with some ghost child who questions his powers.

 “Or maybe my boss is just _so_ powerful, he _looks_ like a regular human but isn’t, Pjotr suddenly jumps into the defence. Then he quickly shuts up.

Joshua shrugs his shoulders and continues cleaning the room. When they’re done he leaves the duo be.

 “If you want lunch, you can get some in the kitchen. But be aware, some of us might be there. Some of my siblings are also shy of strangers. But I’ll let them know they got nothing to fear. Have a nice day.”

 “Thanks, have a nice day t-too.”

“Bye.”

 “Have you seen any other Ghost Children yet?” Solomon quickly asks when the door’s closed.

“Nope, not yet.”

 “Good.”

“You didn’t like him questioning you, do you?” Pjotr chuckles amused. “But can you really _not_ see normal ghosts?”

 “What? Of course I can see them! But it’s much f-f-funnier to pretend I don’t. It confuses them, making them lower their g-guards because they think they’re dealing with a regular human,” Solomon smirks.

Luckily his companion buys it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solomon is a goddamn conman. :')  
> Also, when it comes to the ghost thing, I never rly figured it out properly. So now I decided to go with different sorts of ghosts
> 
> And depending on their 'power' and confidence, they can manifest themselves in different states and may be able to interact or not with the physical world.


	4. The Story of the little Ghost Girl who was in need of a doll (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm splitting it up in more chaps xD  
> This is going to take a while.

The first day at the Blue House is spend on thinking about the possible materials necessary.

While Pjotr tries to ramble it out loud, Solomon keeps track on what his companion is saying by scribbling it all down. Most of the time, they both need to figure out the notes because Pjotr’s easily distracted and can easily start muttering a complete mess. The fact that Solomon often has to quickly write it down doesn’t help either. But together they make for a good team by now.

 “We probably need to get some object heavily associated with ghosts too,” Pjotr mutters as they walk down the stairs for dinner. Since Mister Blue hasn’t returned yet, they decide to make something for him.

 “Do ghosts eat?” Pjotr asks one child as it carefully stands in the door opening. Solomon follows his friend’s eyes and try to look in the same directions.

 “We don’t. But we like to join our dad anyway.”

“That’s nice of you!” Pjotr exclaims.

“Y-yeah,” Solomon mutters. Maybe if he tries more, he can hear the ghosts too. At the moment it almost sounds like eerie static.

Pjotr and Solomon make a simple meal and just when Solomon is putting the pork on some plates, the front door is opened. Mister Blue appears in the kitchen and takes in the scent.

 “Smells good.”

He throws something on the table. It’s sketches, Pjotr notices as he puts a plate in front of the blond.

 “Thanks. Yeah, those are some scribbles I managed to make in-between work.”

Drawn in pencil, some have some black smudges on them, probably from Mister Blue’s work as a mechanic. When all dinner’s served, the Ghost Children join too. Those who can materialize themselves enough, take a literal seat on one of the chairs.

Pjotr casually chews the pork while he goes through Mister Blue’s sketches. They’re…. charming. The guy could have potential, he thinks.

 “These are some neat things.”

“Y-yeah, i-indeed,” Solomon adds as he glares over to the papers. “R-reminds me of bit of a g-gunny sack inspired doll.”

 “It is. She wants a kind of cutesy and simple design,” Mister Blue nods.

“I wouldn’t say a g-g-gasmask is my definition of cute, though,” Solomon chuckles.

 “It can be,” Pjotr mutters. “We’ll make it work.”

 

\--

 

Around midnight, Solomon gets shaken awake by his partner.

 “Wh-what’s going on?”

“You need to come with me. I got a brilliant idea for the puppet!” Pjotr hisses in a low voice. “I’ll explain when we’re outside.”

Without too much trouble the duo manages to get onto the streets No encounter of the Ghost Children or their dad so far.

 “Where are we going?”

“To the graveyard. I don’t want to go in clear daylight.”

 “What? Are we going to s-steal a c-corps or something?” Solomon laughs but get quiet when the artist seems to be really serious about this.

Now, Solomon usually doesn’t shy away from doing some unethical practices, but digging up some corps? Rather distasteful, even for his standards. It’s cold outside. Luckily both men wear their coats.

The walk to the cemetery takes about twenty minutes. It’s mostly spend in silence. Once at the scene, Pjotr takes out a glass jar from his coat. Solomon is amazed every single time by how much stuff his friend can hide in that heavy piece of garment.

 “We’re going ghost hunting, actually. Or soul hunting.”

“Thrilling.”

 “It sure is. I haven’t done this much before if at all. Most clients don’t need a trapped soul to bring their doll to life,” Pjotr explains.

 “So what we’re looking for ex-exactly?”

“Look out for a tombstone for a pet. A dog, preferably.”

 “You think people let their pets be buried here?”

“Maybe. You never know. Come on, let’s find out!”

The two split up and Pjotr even adjusts his glasses as if it would make a major difference. In the meantime Solomon checks every gravestone too, hoping to catch a glimpse of the supernatural. It bugs him he can’t see ghosts properly like his companion. Then there’s rustling in the nearby bushes. Alerted Solomon jumps up but is relieved when he sees it was just a cat passing by. Not a passed cat, though.

With the dim light of his lighter he makes his way through the graveyard, which was larger than expected. The moon isn’t the brightest tonight, making it even harder to see in the dark.

 Then the conman stumbles over a tree root, hidden by shadows and green. He curses and then sees he’s fallen upon stone. He scratches his chin to see if he bleeds. Nope.

 “I-I’ll leave you alone! Please, I won’t bother you anymore!” comes the sudden yelps from his friend.

Solomon looks around him and then sees a shadow approaching at a fast pace.

It’s Pjotr. He seems to be running for his life. He crashes down by Solomon, totally out of breath.

 “Upset the s-spirits?” Solomon is amused, despite having fallen a moment ago.

“Yeah. But I’m fine and- oh god, you found one!”

 “I did? I mean, of course!” Now Solomon throws a look at the stone he’s fallen onto. It’s also a mini grave.

  _Buck._

A bone under the name clearly indicates it’s the grave of a dog.

Quickly Pjotr crawls off the stone and Solomon decides to copy his partner. Pjotr is grinning.

 “Jackpot,” he mutters to himself.

Without hesitation he opens the lid of the jar.

 “Hey buddy, we won’t harm you. In fact, I’m going to give you a new home!” Pjotr whispers to the thin air.

 “S-so, this isn’t c-completely a ghost, i-is it?” Solomon carefully questions.

“It’s a trapped soul. I don’t know how to free it. But by becoming a part of the doll, it can have a new purpose in life. How’s that sound, Buck? A new life with other dead ones who aren’t dead _dead_?”

 It gets silent for a moment.

Then Pjotr speaks up once more. He’s smiling. “Good boy, this will be much better than just wandering this lonely graveyard. You also don’t have to deal with that grumpy spirit over there.”

The taller guy closes the jar and puts it back in one of his many pockets of the cloak. “We can go home.”

 

By the time they get back to the Blue House, the front door’s opened. The silhouette of the man of the house is a sharp contrast with the light behind him. He has his arms crossed and seems to be frowning.

 “Where’ve you two been?”

It feels like coming home after a party you shouldn’t have attended and now you’re busted by your parents.

 “A midnight stroll to the graveyard,” Pjotr plays it cool. “It was for the doll. I already figured you wouldn’t like borrowing your car for that. We didn’t want to drag you into that.”

 “Hm, come on in. It’s cold outside.”

Mister Blue’s tone seems calm again. “Many people think of me as a weirdo already. Seemingly talking to myself, living in such a blue house. Anyway, thanks for being considerate I guess. Just what where you planning to find at a cemetery?”

 “He found a s-soul. Of a d-dog.”

“Yes, if all goes well, it will give the doll ghost-like qualities. And with the pure soul of a dog, you basically can’t go wrong. Unless it would’ve been a naughty dog, but that wasn’t the case,” Pjotr explains.

Mister Blue peers at the duo, trying to process it all. It ends with a slightly approving hum of the man before he heads upstairs. “Alright. I’ll trust you on this. I’m going to bed.”

 

\--

 

Around ten AM Pjotr finally wakes up. Solomon is in the living room, the kids are in their rooms apparently and Mister Blue has already left for work.

 “Hello,” Solomon greets his partner.

“Damn, I overslept, huh.”

 “Pretty much. What’s the plan t-today?”

“Start creating the doll. I have gunny sack material around. Most things we probably don’t have to buy extra. I’m gonna grab some breakfast. You had some already?”

 “Yes. I’m fine.”

When Pjotr thuds down with a large bowl of cereal and milk, Solomon is watching some cooking show.

 “Always have to l-look for new dishes to m-make.”

“Well, you know I’ll eat about anything,” Pjotr comments before engulfing himself with a spoon full of crunchy flakes.

 

Back in their guest room, Pjotr draws more sketches, makes a model sheet and tries to calculate the amount of materials necessary to make this project succeed.

 “I think tomorrow we’ll have to ask Mister Blue to join him at the workshop.”

“Good plan. Do we n-need to buy things still?”

 “Foam. To make the mask. Unless we find a miniature gasmask somewhere.”

“I’m going t-to explore the town a bit. Care to a-accompany me?”

 “Sure.”

There’s actually not much to see in town. There’s a bar. A bakery, a pharmacy, a small church. The basic necessities of course. But it’s a nice little town. The weather is nice too.

 “I’m surprised the g-guy trusts us as easy like t-that.”

“I guess he knows who to trust or not. Seems like he’s been through a lot. I mean, he lives with ghosts!”

 “Yeah. I-interesting man.”

“When he gets home, I’ll ask about using his workplace.”

 

\--

 

“Sure. If you don’t mind getting up early, you can drive with me.”

 “Great! Then that’s settled.”

“Nice. I’m actually interested in seeing you work, Pjotr. Never seen a dollmaker in action before.”


	5. The Story of the little Ghost Girl who was in need of a doll (END)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally this story is told!

Solomon and Pjotr sit in the backseats of Mister Blue’s car. The thing feels old. Every bump in the road is felt. The stuff in the dollmaker’s cloak rattle the whole time. During their trip Solomon notices an envelope with something inside. When he asks about it, Mister Blue says it’s photos of his children.

 Once at the garage, the blond man shows Pjotr where he can set up his own work. Afterward he gives the two men a short trip around the place before getting to work himself.

On the spare workbench Pjotr starts placing all the necessary tools to form the basis. While he’s putting the things on the table, Solomon helps him to put order into the growing pile of materials.

Finally the artist puts a blueprint onto the table to have some sort of overview on what he’s going to create. At this point Mister Blue has quickly stepped in to see what’s going on.

 “That’s a lot of stuff laying about.”

“Yes. Hopefully all necessary too, _if_ I calculated this right. The start is always a bit tricky. But somehow also the easiest. The hardest part comes in breathing actual _life_ into these creations,” Pjotr mutters as he starts measuring a piece of clothing.

 “I’ll have to make the gasmask as one of the last pieces. But I think your sketches helped me a great deal already. Though it’s still tricky, doing this all from scratch.”

 “Hm, hm. I see. If you ever need help with something, I can try to help.”

“Thanks.”

 

\--

 

First come the feet, made out of large bolts. Pjotr added extra lead to give the feet some weight. That way the doll won’t just sag into itself. Inside the legs itself are strong but bendable wires, giving the puppet the ability to be posed. In the same time, Solomon helps his friend out by already sewing the main clothing for the doll: a simple tunic. 

 Pjotr stuffs the belly of the doll with plush fill and a marble ball, shaped like a cherry.

“W-what’s that f-for?”

 “To add another layer of sweetness,” Pjotr explains as he puts the marble deep inside the body.

“It starts to take shape,” comes the sudden voice of the car mechanist. “I’m taking a quick break.”

 “I should too,” Solomon laughs. His friend gives him a pouty look.

“You did the bare minimum.”

 “I’m not the a-artist. Y-you are.”

While the two older men have a short break in Mister Blue’s car and talk about casual stuff, Pjotr continues his creation. He decides to work on the hands. For that he needs an eyeglass. The mechanisms that make the fingers bend, is delicate work that needs his highest attention. Soon the noises in the background, such as the machinery and chattering of his companion, all start to fade away. It’s only Pjotr and the workbench now.

His hands move frantically and yet he knows what he’s doing. He’s done this over a thousand times. Maybe even more than a million times.

 

First, at home in his little room. Later he was allowed to use his dad’s workspace. Then he managed to gain some fame in his town and soon Pjotr found himself working in his own little shop. Too bad that only lasted for a few years: one of his creations caused havoc and he was forced to leave town.

 

And now he’s here: in this stranger’s workshop. Pjotr chuckles to himself as he remembers the good old days. Soon he should write a letter to his parents. How long has it been now? Two months, maybe even three? He looks back at his creation. The hands are done. Time to switch to the main body again.

Carefully he sews Solomon’s cloth onto the doll. In the back he leaves a hole, that’s where the important parts will be added later on. The jar with the dog’s soul is standing safely against the wall. Totally out of reach of Pjotr’s often clumsy hands.

 “How you doing?”

Solomon suddenly stands behind his friend. The conman looks at the mess at the workbench. Mister Blue is heard helping a customer. Pjotr throws a look at his pocket watch. It’s already past eleven.

 “It’s going great. Quicker than expected. Doll’s going to be around 30cm from head to toe.”

“I see. A-anything else I can help with?”

 “I think the legs are still drying. If they’re dry, though, you could paint the base layer,” Pjotr points at the casts with the actual legs next to it, drying on a plastic plate. Solomon nods in silence as he checks upon them.

 

During noon, Mister Blue hands out sandwiches. They eat them outside the garage. Some people who pass by greet the mechanist.

 “How long do you think it will take, still?” the man turns to Pjotr.

“The arms are still in their mould. Won’t come until later tonight. Then they’ll have to get a paintjob. Usually I use two base layers when painting. Afterward comes the detail work, the cleaning up part. I think we should count at least two extra days. And finally, I’ll have to pass the soul of that dog over to the doll. And,” Pjotr takes a firm bite out of his bread before continuing and pointing at Mister Blue, “I’ll need something of you too.” The man looks surprised.  

“Me? What do you need?”  

 “I don’t know what will qualify. Maybe a strand of hair could do. Or your nails.”

“Y-you mean my _entire_ nail or just a bit?” Mister Blue stammers.

 “Your whole nail,” Pjotr leers at him. Solomon watches in silence but stays on edge anyway. But then his companion bursts out in laughter. “Haha! You should’ve seen the look on your faces!” He slaps himself on the knee and then regains his normal posture. “No, man. A normal bit of nail will suffice. But to keep this doll sane, normal and a bit parent-like, like you, I really need a part of your body.”

 “I don’t know if that’s a good idea then.”

“Why not?”

 “I’m not as sane as I used to be. If I ever was,” Mister Blue laughs. Then he turns serious again. “A pluck of hair and all will definitely do. If you need some of blood, I’ll go that length too.”

 “H-hardcore,” Solomon smirks and Pjotr agrees.

“With this job, I’ve bled many times already. A small cut won’t make me die.”

 “Great. But today none of that is necessary! Solomon, join me again!”

“Good. B-breaktime is over.”

Everyone goes back to their work. Mister Blue helping unlucky patients, Solomon and Pjotr working on the doll for the little ghost girl.

 

\--

 

On the next day, the arm casts have dried and the two men paint the first layer. They manage to paint the second one in the afternoon while Pjotr also decorates the legs some more. At one point Mister Blue is able to help them out a bit with their start for the gasmask. It indeed needed more than one pair of hands to accomplish that.

To have some variation in work, Pjotr and Solomon also help Mister Blue around the place. They check up the air in some tires, clean a few tools and Solomon tries to aid with some paper work.

 

\--

 

The day after, the arms are given their final touch. It’s around noon when Pjotr starts assembling all separate parts. He’s so busy, he forgot to lunch with the other men. By the time he’s done, his stomach is the only thing heard. Mister Blue has driven to the local snack bar and treated the younger man on a large portion of fries. To his surprise, Pjotr manages to consume the whole tray.

 “P-pjotr’s a good eater,” Solomon chuckles.

Mister Blue throws a glance at the workbench. The puppet stands proudly on the bench.

 “Your commission is almost f-finished. Right?”

Pjotr nods as he stuffs another hand full of fries in his mouth. It really isn’t a pretty sight. He heavily swallows and flushes away remaining fries with a some cola. “I’m ready for another round! Don’t worry, Mister Blue. This evening I’ll put the remaining parts _inside_ the doll. That means I’ll need some of your skin or something. Hair, a few nails and a bit of blood will do.”

 The maker points at a small plastic container.  “That’s where you can put your stuff. Make sure there’s nothing on your mind. At least nothing too worrisome. Remember, this is for your daughter.”

 “Y-you make it s-sound if he won’t do that, a v-vengeful part of him gets transported i-into that doll.”

“It could be.” Pjotr’s eyes turn wide. “Remember that fiasco in the beginning of my career?”

That shuts Solomon up and Mister Blue doesn’t know what to say either. He gulps as he takes the container in his hands. “Happy thoughts,” he mutters.

 “You can do it at home too. Or think it over. If you decide not to do it, that’s fine too.”

“How will that affect the doll, though?” the mechanic wants to know.

 “The soul of the dog gives the doll the innocence of that dog. The purity of it. And also important, the ghost like qualities we need for this specific commission. If I ingrain parts of you into the doll, it will take over some of your traits perhaps. Hopefully the caring part. It’s like a macabre way to immortalize you.”

 “That’s indeed a strange way to copy a part of my consciousness into an object.”

“Not completely your consciousness. Don’t worry. Just a glimpse of it. I’m sorry if I can’t properly explain. It’s all really difficult and not very…. Logical,” Pjotr sighs.

 “It’s fine. I’ll do this at home. I’ll be back in no time.” Mister Blue steps up and leaves the garage.

 

An hour later he comes back. He apologizes for being late but Pjotr waves away his apology.

 “Still trying to import the soul.”

Now Mister Blue notices that Pjotr wears different glasses _over_ his normal ones. He is wearing latex gloves too now. Strange.

 “I’ll, just put it here on this chair,” Mister Blue says in a low voice, so to not distract the working man.

Pjotr gives the car dealer a thumbs up.

 “Now if you excuse me, this will take long. Maybe a whole night! I’ll need to talk to the doll too. And finish the gasmask. It’s almost done!”

 “Okay. I’ll leave you alone. The keys are at the entrance door. Good luck and thank you.”

But the dollmaker is already engulfed in his own little world of macabre creations and the forbidden art to create life out of lifeless objects.

 

He works the whole evening through without much rest. The soul was a bit unwilling at first, giving him a difficult start. Afterward, Pjotr accidentally dropped the mask. Trying to keep the doll away from his curses, he fixes the mask and glues it together again. Right after, he puts it on the rest of the doll’s body. Normal thread is used but he mixes in a few thin hairs of the mechanist as well.

With a special tool, he crushes the nails into fine sand and puts it inside the back of the doll. Then Pjotr takes out a special jar: a little heart is inside it. The liquid could burn his clothes and hands, would he not wear special clothing and protection. With an eyedropper Pjotr lets some blood drip into the heart’s cracks. Not long after, the thing starts to pulsate and that’s when the dollmaker knows it’s time to finish his creation. He stuffs the now alive heart into the doll. He connects some wires and mini cables inside the puppet and then sews it all shut. A fitting backpack covers up the back and then Pjotr starts mumbling in an ancient language.

 Before he knows it, he’s in a weird trance. The lightbulbs in the garage crack and all lights shutoff immediately. Then a large burst of lightning makes the whole workshop tremble and Pjotr falls off of his chair.

His heart is racing like crazy. The adrenaline rushes through his excited body. Every single time, it brings the artist into a state of high.

 “I did it!” he exclaims as he sees the doll stand on its own. The glasses of the gasmask light up for a second and then the thing stares at its creator.

Pjotr has a wide smile plastered on his face. He welcomes the new life into his world.

 

\--

 

The following morning Mister Blue drives to his workshop together with Solomon. It’s eerily quiet inside. He looks at the broken glass of some light bulbs. He should replace those things.

 “What the hell,” he mutters.

The two men find the dollmaker at the workbench. Asleep. Snoring.

 _“Where’s the doll?”_ is the first thing that comes to Mister Blue’s mind. Slightly panicked he looks around the place but remains frozen to his spot. Suddenly a bucket that leads to Mister Blue’s office, falls over. The doll appears behind it. Nervously it seems. It shuffles behind its cover and looks at the two men.

 “A-are you-,” the doll doesn’t finish its sentence. Instead it turns invisible, or rather _ghost_.

“Where did it go?”

 “Pjotr! W-wake up!” Solomon alerts his companion.

In a haze, the taller man looks around him. Then he feels some pressure around his leg. When he looks down, he sees the doll is clutching onto it. Pjotr chuckles.

 “Hey there, don’t worry little fella. You see that tall, blue guy? That’s Mister Blue. Your new caretaker. Well, not really. Actually his daughter, Elizabeth, will take care of you from now on!” Pjotr eases the doll who then stretches its arms out to its maker.

 The man takes the doll in his arms and puts it on his lap. “Say hi to Mister Blue.”

“H-hello.”

 “Eh, well, hi,” Mister Blue mutters. It takes him a few seconds before daring to look the living doll in the eyes. He breathes in and exhales slowly. “N-nice to meet you. My name is Mister Blue. Proud dad of a bunch of kids. Ghost Children. I hope you and my daughter will make great friends!”

Without even having a visible mouth, the car dealer sees the doll is smiling. This might not have been a bad idea after all.

 

On the road home, Pjotr explains some special stuff about the doll to both the new owner and the doll itself. He gives Mister Blue a booklet, it’s an extra guide.

 “In case you need us, there’s a p-phone number at the end of it a-as well,” Solomon adds.

“Thanks, at home I’ll give you the money.”

 “Great.”

“I hope I’ll be a good doll,” the doll mutters. It sits on the passenger’s seat next to Mister Blue.

 “I’m sure you will. And I’m sure my little girl will fall in love with you instantly,” the driver smiles.

At home, the Ghost Children await the group in the living room. The little ghost girl the adults kept talking about, immediately runs over to the doll. Immediately it gets showered with attention and love of the girl.

 “I love it, papa!” she yelps.

“That’s great. Make sure to take good care of it, right?”

Elizabeth heavily nods. “Of course! This the first time I can hold a doll _forever_!”

Mister Blue laughs. “That’s why I let it be made for you. Go on now, give the doll a little house tour while I make sure these gentlemen here get paid for their great effort.” The three men meet in the kitchen again where the final deal is made. Over a cup of coffee, money is handed over and Solomon is sure they’ve done another good job. Well, mostly _Pjotr_. The creator himself seems to be very pleased by his work as well.

Finally Mister Blue shakes hands with both men and leaves them out of his house. Elizabeth thanks Pjotr and waves the man goodbye, the doll standing next to her, also waving.

 “T-that’s another job w-well done,” Solomon smiles as they sit in the bus.

Pjotr nods. “It sure was fun to do! Hope we’ll get work somewhere else soon. So, where are we going to next?”

 “We’ll see where the w-wind us takes,” Solomon smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this took me way longer than it should xD  
> but in the end the actual doll making part turned out bit better than expected :')
> 
> We'll see if there will be more stories told or not in the future!   
> Thanks for those who kudo'd so far :D!


	6. Late train ride (Oneshot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title says: there's a late train to catch.

Just in time we manage to catch a ride on the last train leaving the old station. Pjotr has made sure to put our baggage in first and then he has to drag me in before I’d get crushed by the unforgiving closing doors. I curse when a part of my shirt gets stuck anyway. No matter how much I pull, the darn thing won’t come loose.

 “Wait,” Pjotr says. Before I have a say in it, he’s taken out a pair of scissors out of that magic coat of his. I call it the magic coat, because god knows what he stuffs in there. It seems infinite.

 Zrrt. There goes my nice t-shirt. I give my companion a look but he’s already busy dragging the luggage into one of the wagons. Despite this being the last train, it certainly is crowded. A lot of people give us some looks but I’m used to that by now. I know Pjotr and I make an odd duo.

After we’ve managed to put some of the heavy bags onto the rack, we sit down on the row of chairs. The two and four people seats are taken. Really crowded.

 

Two stops later, Pjotr has decided to not give a fuck what others think and takes out one of his newest creations: a doll, pretty simple in design actually. He puts the thing on his lap. Ah, the thing has two eyes now, made of colourful buttons. Last time I saw it, it was a blind one. I smile at it – you never know with Pjotr’s puppets, which one is alive and in what sense, or which one is not- before amusing myself with a book on cults.

The book is interesting, definitely something that’d be fun to do myself. But I’m a busy, _traveling_ guy so starting a cult would first require a steady home base which I do not have.

By the time I’m at chapter ten, the train has become more breathable. People have come and go, but mostly go. There are a few seats with table free now. I clap my book shut and put it in my backpack.

Quickly I look at the free seat and then I look at Pjotr. The guy has drifted off. I poke him but he doesn’t react.

 “Hey, Pjotr, there’s a place f-free and-” an obnoxious snore cuts me off.

I see one old lady give us a disapproving look, even putting more space between her and us. Old people, ha, _they_ are the ones not showing respect. I yawn and lay back in my seat.

 Three stops left but there’s some delay.

 

Maybe I should try to take a quick nap too. I put on my alarm clock and then try to make myself as comfy as possible in these horrible train chairs. Just as I’m about to doze off myself, I feel a sudden weight against my shoulder. When I look, I see it’s Pjotr. With his full weight he leans on me.

 “I-it’s a long train ride, huh?” I murmur.

Though a total weirdo, Pjotr is admirable. Cute even, at times. I smile at my companion. When nobody’s looking I let my fingers run through his curly, dark hair. I get lost in the act but then a pair of weird eyes ‘awaken’ me. I blink a few times and then I realize Pjotr’s doll is still resting in the guy’s lap. Did that thing look at me? No, it’s slumped against the artist’s chest. It isn’t even remotely looking at me. Guess I’m really tired too.

 “Hm, S-sol?” Pjotr finally stirs awake. Unaware of the position he’s in, he almost tumbles over into my lap but I’m quick enough to catch him.

 “We’re almost there. Look, one stop left,” I point out the display.

“Oh, okay. Haha, I must’ve fallen asleep deeply.”

 “Yeah.”

“Oh shit, did I fall into you?” Pjotr starts apologizing but I stop him.

 “It’s f-fine. I’m fine.” I can’t stop myself from blushing and thus quickly looking the other way.

“Oh, okay. Good. Time to put this guy back in the bag. Sorry, fella, but your making has to wait again.”

I see how careful Pjotr is with putting the doll away. Before I can help myself, I ask: “Is it a-alive?”

 “No. This one? Won’t ever be,” Pjotr chuckles.


	7. A family of three (Oneshot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pjotr and Sol go to an amusement park together. But that simple day off, comes with a whole setup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got sudden inspiration.  
> This isn't reread becos im a lazy hoe

“But we’ll get a _family_ discount!” Pjotr’s eyes twinkle with mischief and delight.

Solomon’s weak. He gives in but he rolls his eyes first. “Alright. B-but I’m not going to play the woman.”

 Pjotr frowns. “Well neither am I! None of us have to.”

“So we’re just to guys.”

 “Yes. We’ll need some props first, though.” Pjotr takes out his trustworthy notebook and starts scribbling.

 “Baby diapers, a buggy, milk and of course a baby.”

“Local mall, t-thrift shop, local mall… B-but where the hell are we going to find a b-baby? I know I’ve often gone lengths to d-deceive people but I’m n-not going to steal a b-baby!”

 “Who says we’re going to even steal or borrow a baby?” Pjotr exclaims, offended. He then shakes his head and points at his cloak. “We’ll just use one of the dolls!”

 “One of the animated ones?”

“Yeah. But I think a simple puppet will do. A more complex mind isn’t going to help in this scenario. Most of the time, our baby has to stay a good baby and be quiet.”

 “Oh god, I can’t b-believe we’re going to do this.”

 

\--

 

The duo had been lucky to rent a more fancy hotel room thanks to their last client. With their stuff safely stored there, the guys set out to get the necessary materials to make this scam work.

 As Solomon predicted, most stuff is found in the local mall. Only a small pack of diapers, and a few bottles of milk. They have to take the bus to go to the nearest thrift shop, though.

It’s stuffy inside and Pjotr is constantly sneezing. With a droopy nose he follows the older man around like it’s his dad. Suddenly one of the workers approaches them.

 “Misters, eh, could I help you perhaps?”

“Well, we’re looking for a nice, s-simple buggy f-for our baby,” Solomon nods.

 “Who we’ve let home… eh, sleeping in bed? She was very tired!” Pjotr adds and realizes he shouldn’t have said that. Luckily, the woman doesn’t seem to have her doubts yet. Instead she goes on, steadily explaining which buggy would be best.

 Eventually, the duo decides to still buy the cheapest as this will probably only for the weekend.

“So, how old is your little girl?” the woman then asks by the payment.

“A-almost a…. a year,” Solomon scratches the back of his head. Then he quickly puts the cash on the counter.

 “I see, I see. And you two are her…”

“Parents. S-something wrong with two g-guys raising a b-baby?” Solomon immediately says.

The woman blushes and chuckles. “No, of course not. I just-, well, I don’t see it that often. Good luck, though.”

 

On the bus ride back to the hotel, Solomon and Pjotr struggle getting the buggy in the crowded vehicle. Once they’re settled, the smaller man lets out a sigh. “I got w-worried there.”

 “Yeah, I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” Pjotr stares at his feet.

That makes his companion laugh. “Probably. T-the more details, the m-more suspicious.”

 

\--

 

The next morning, the men take one of the earliest buses to the amusement park. They’ve put one of Pjotr’s simpler dolls into the buggy, covered it with a lot of blankets too. Again, it’s quite the hassle to get onto the bus. This time the buggy is heavier too. During the trip, the men get a lot of curious looks. Mostly from elderly women. Luckily most of the time, they don’t get the time to ask a lot of questions to the ‘couple’. Also, Pjotr pretends to be overprotective and tells people off. (Maybe he _is_ overprotective when it comes to his creations.)

 “Baby is sleeping. We shouldn’t disturb her.”

He will throw one of those weird looks and then people easily back off.

 

Finally the bus stops at the amusement park. Only a few people were left so taking the buggy outside is a lot easier. Solomon stares at the huge entrance plate.

 “R-revolution Park.”

“We definitely have to ride that infamous Revolution Roulette,” Pjotr insists as they walk inside.

Solomon shrugs his shoulders, which earns him a pouty look from his friend.

 “What?! That’s _the_ must-ride attraction!”

“We have a b-baby to t-take care of!” Solomon nudges at the cart. “T-time to play parents.”

The men roll up at the entrée for tickets. The salesman wants to see the baby. Pjotr tries to find a way around it but eventually ends up taking his doll out of the buggy. Trying to reveal as little as possible, the two men pass the test.

Relieved, they enter the park where Pjotr immediately goes to the closest snackbar. Solomon has his thoughts on that.

 “You sure you w-wanna have a full stomach when r-riding one of those things?”

“I’m immune,” the taller man flaunts. He then throws a look at the buggy. “You know that too, right, baby girl?” With his fingers he pulls the invisible strings and the doll waves its arms at the man.

 “See. She understands me.”

After the very early snack time, the guys stroll lazily through the park. There’s a lot for kids too.

 “Solomon, look! That’s a _mothman_ ride!”

“It’s for k-kids.”

 “But the theme, Solomon! Come on!” Excited and ignoring his friend, Pjotr runs ahead. He gets stopped when he sees the height requirement. He’s too tall. That makes Solomon laugh out loud.

The puppet maker scowls at his friend and then smirks. “Maybe then _you_ should ride it. For me.”

 “N-not gonna happen,” Solomon is stubborn. He takes out the baby doll and pretends he’s cradling it in his arms.

 “You’re taking it quite far,” Pjotr sighs.

“So did you a-at the bus.”

 “I don’t like people seeing creations they don’t understand. Besides, this little fella is unfinished.”

“I think she’s j-just fine,” Solomon smiles at the puppet and even presses a quick kiss on its forehead. “But we should enter at least o-one attraction t-together, yes.”

 

They find a mutual interest in the movie ride. It’s a calm rollercoaster, if you can call it that. They can bring their baby along. At one point of the journey, Solomon rests his head against Pjotr’s shoulder.

 “How romantic, partner,” Pjotr exclaims.

“Almost real,” the other chuckles. “C-can I hold the b-baby?”

 “Here.”

“Almost real,” he repeats.

The ride is over before they know it. Their eyes have to get used to the light again. Pjotr decides it’s time to ride that Revolution Roulette. The biggest, wildest rollercoaster of the park. It’s like a spiral into hell, Solomon thinks upon first sight.

 “I’ll stay here, w-waiting.”

“Aww. You know what, I’ll go first and if it’s super fun, you have to join me!”

 “With the b-baby?!”

“Nah. We can, eh, leave the buggy here somewhere,” Pjotr mutters. “You’ll find a nice spot! Be right back!”

Before the conman can react, his friend is running off to the large queue. He sighs and turns to the baby. “I-it’s just you and m-me now, huh?”

It’s almost forty minutes later when Pjotr returns. His hair is a total mess.

 “And, have you found a nice hiding spot yet?”

“What? O-oh yeah. H-here,” Solomon takes the buggy over to a small bushy island. Pjotr nods approvingly. He leans into the buggy and whispers: “Be a good doll for us, and stay quiet.”

Even though this puppet has no soul, no voice or hearing or anything that makes it remotely ‘alive’, Pjotr likes to pretend it does anyway. Again, he pulls his fingers and the puppet leans up to give its creator a quick smooch on the nose.

 “That’s it. Come on, Sol, we have a wild roulette to catch!”

 

Though he doesn’t vomit in the end, Solomon sure feels like puking as soon as they wobble outside the rollercoaster. Pjotr seems unaffected. Lucky bastard.

 “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Nah. I don’t think so- BABY!”

The dollmaker wants to ask what’s going on but then sees in shock that there stands a woman next to the buggy. Both men hurry. Pjotr, slightly faster than Solomon, who still has to recover from the rollercoaster ride.

 “W-what’s going on?” Pjotr stammers as he gets closer.

“‘What’s going on?’ I’d better ask _you_. Are you its parents?” the woman says in an accusing tone.

 “I-, well, we-” Pjotr doesn’t seem to take it well. This isn’t going as planned.

Luckily, Solomon is there to back him up.

 “I-, m-madam, let me e-explain!”

“What’s there to explain? You left this baby alone in the bushes! Also, what happened to its face! It looks… horrible!”

 “That’s not nice to say!” Pjotr snorts, obviously offended. _It’s not finished yet._

“You see, our little b-baby girl has a d-disease. Unexplainable, t-to even the docs. That’s why i-its covered up like that. A-and she can’t stand the sunlight a l-lot. So w-we tried to cover her here.”

Smooth talker Solomon. Solomon who can lie his way out of basically everything.

The woman still looks suspicious. She crosses her arms. “If so, why you leave her alone?”

 “I was looking for a r-restroom. But I got a b-bit lost. Thought it’d t-take me longer. Anyway-” Solomon quickly puts himself between the woman and the buggy. He picks up the baby and starts hushing it and apologizing to it.

 “I’m s-so sorry d-daddy left you alone here. I w-won’t ever d-do something so f-foolish again!”

“Husbands,” the woman hisses through her teeth. “They just don’t know how to care for kids.”

 “Ey, I heard that!” Pjotr calls the woman out. “We’re trying our best here!”

“Hmpf, try harder next time. I could’ve called the cops for child neglect,” the woman huffs. That’s when Solomon quickly walks over to his companion and hugs him. Kid in one arm, the other wrapped around the taller man. Pjotr understands and goes in for a passionate kiss. It works. The woman quickly walks away. The click of her heels finally fading away.

  “That was another close call huh,” Pjotr smirks.

Solomon realizes the other man’s face is still pretty up close. It makes his face heated. Quickly he untangles himself from the guy and in the process drops the doll.

 “My baby!” Pjotr screeches. He dives to the ground and puts the fake baby back in the buggy. “But I think the woman’s right, in a way. We’re terrible husbands.”

 That puts a smile on his partner’s face. “Yeah. Kids a-aint for me. We’re better off w-without them.”

“Yup. But at least we got some discount.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that story!  
> With a lot of fluff, crack and also some of my fav tropes :D  
> \- Pretend family/partners (or are they ehhe)  
> \- Kiss! To distract Enemy!  
> \- Overall dumbness and disaster partners  
> \- Reference to PoTF, couldn't leave it out lol :')


End file.
